


I'm always there for you

by RainyMonday



Category: Gotham (TV)
Genre: Angst, Angst with a Happy Ending, Batjokes Gotham Exchange, Hallucinations, Hurt/Comfort, Jeremiah needs a hug, Kissing, M/M, Mostly Canon Compliant, Scarecrow's Fear Toxin (DCU)
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-09-17
Updated: 2018-09-17
Packaged: 2019-07-13 17:36:13
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,851
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/16022705
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/RainyMonday/pseuds/RainyMonday
Summary: Jeremiah gets sprayed with fear toxin instead of laughing gas at the end of Ep.18. Bruce finds him.My contributin for the Batjokes Gotham Exchange for Jessie/sixxxer!





	I'm always there for you

**Author's Note:**

> So, finally, here’s my contribution for the Batjokes Gotham Exchange. It’s a little bit late but some recent events messed with my time schedule. I had some wonderful prompts to work with and barely couldn’t decide which one to choose, so I combined two of them:  
> Jeremiah doesn’t get sprayed with the insanity gas and stays Bruce’s friend (well, I guess that’s implied)  
> and  
> One of the twins is sprayed with fear gas. Bruce finds them
> 
> I just thought those two prompts were easily combined and really enjoyed writing this!  
> I hope you will enjoy as well!

So, finally, here’s my contribution for the Batjokes Gotham Exchange. It’s a little bit late but some recent events messed with my time schedule. I had some wonderful prompts to work with and barely couldn’t decide which one to choose, so I combined two of them:  
Jeremiah doesn’t get sprayed with the insanity gas and stays Bruce’s friend (well, I guess that’s implied)  
And  
One of the twins is sprayed with fear gas. Bruce finds them  
I just thought those two prompts were easily combined and really enjoyed writing this!  
I hope you will enjoy as well!

 

Coming home would never be the same.

For the first time, Jeremiah didn’t bother to take the longest, most complicated way through the maze.

For the first time, he even thought about getting rid of it. About moving into a normal house, with a normal door and a normal lock, somewhere in Gotham.

For the first time in many years, he had to smile.

He imagined it, the normal life he had been denied for so long. He would live in a flat, simple, plain, enough for him, he would work at Wayne Enterprises and he would spend his days among other people or outside, he would see the city he had lived in for so long without knowing it. He would meet Bruce. His smile grew. He could have friends. And Bruce. Especially Bruce.

It took him some time to unlock all the locks he had placed on the door behind which he was living in the moment. He was already annoyed by it. From now on, things could only get better. Jerome was dead. He had seen his body, had seen it cold and bloodless. Gone, once and for all.

He’d never known how relief felt until this very moment. Relief and… freedom. He felt it tingling from his toes to his fingertips, a completely new feeling. He could do everything now, whatever he wanted. Nobody would hunt him down to hurt him, there was no need to be scared anymore. He had been scared for too long.

Freedom felt good.

Fearlessness felt fantastic.

He saw everything different now. He had so many wishes he had to fulfill, dreams to live up to, places to see, experiences to make. He was so glad he had gone with Bruce. He firmly believed the two of them could become friends. And maybe even more.

His smile deepened, the motion itself so unusual he felt his cheeks hurting a bit. Bruce really send his thoughts spinning. Which was the reason why he wasn’t confused by the present set on his table. He was puzzled at first but then he saw the Wayne Enterprises logo and all his doubts were diffused.

 

In retrospective, opening the gift without a second thought just because Bruce’s name was on it had been a bad idea. But he had been happy and light-headed and relieved and maybe even a little bit in love. Bruce had promised to keep him safe, had helped him gain this new life. He’d been curious, not scared. Naive. He regretted it. Of course he did.

As soon as the clown sprang out of the box, he knew Jerome was sending him greetings from his grave and that safety had been nothing more than an illusion. The clown, ugly, terrifying, laughing, was almost enough to make his heart stop. When the gas hit him, it was enough to make him scream. The sound was rough, high-pitched and abruptly stopped as soon as he inhaled whatever it was.

He coughed and coughed, stumbled away from the package, the purple gas. Terrified. He would die. He would never be able to use all the freedom he had now. It felt like the gas was blocking his lungs, he couldn’t breath, it hurt, burned through his skin and then deeper, set his body on fire and made him go ice-cold at the same time.

He was choking now, choking on his own breath, the air around him. He could barely focus, the walls and furniture nothing more than a blur now, a mix of colors he wasn’t ready to see for the last time. He tried to get up, but the pain was still everywhere and his legs crushed beneath him. He tried to think, tried to find out what poison it had been, but there was no way to think like this.

Bright, hot light exploded behind his eyes whenever he tried to focus, his hands and fingers, his whole body were shaking so badly he couldn’t even grab something to hold on. He wasn’t one for prayers or religion, in this moment however, he would have prayed if he had been able to remember the lines. He couldn’t see anymore, couldn’t move, couldn’t breath. He was locked inside his mind and he couldn’t even use it because it hurt. It only screamed at him to move, to get help and he couldn’t do it. He felt something in his almost lifeless fingers, he had no idea what it was, how it had gotten there and he just pressed on the surface desperately. Help. He needed help. He was screaming again, his throat felt torn by now, when he passed out.

 

When he awoke, he wasn’t sure whether he was alive or not. Whether he had a cruel dream, a wicked imagination. He just knew that something was wrong. The floor was hard and cold, his body was freezing, his head spinning, his fingers clutched around his phone desperately, it’s screen black.

He got up on wobbly legs, saw the present and remembered.

He felt horror creeping into his veins. He was alive, should be grateful and couldn’t. Something was moving behind him. He spun around and stared at nothing.

He felt watched. His neck was a prickling sensation, his body covered in goosebumps. He spun around another time. Somewhere from the maze came laughter. He backed away, away from the door he hadn’t locked, away from the maze he’d shown the easiest way through. The laughter came closer and he ran for the security footage.

„Where are you brother?“, his heart stopped and he could feel sweat trickling down his forehead, „where are you?“

He was shaking again, to horrified to think, his mind just blank. He had tricked them again. He was coming for him. Alive. Nothing but a slim wooden door between them. He was falling, sinking against the wall before he could do anything about it. The phone fell from his hand.

“Oh brother, I’ve waited so long for this”, Jerome’s voice echoed from the speakers, the words stretched and mutilated.

He drew in another shaky breath. He looked for a weapon. He had left his gun at the police department. The shaking got worse. He grabbed the phone. He could get help. He could try. They wouldn’t be there in time, he knew. They wouldn’t believe him, he knew that too. His hands tried to dial a number and failed, he tried again, panic rushing through his veins. Laughter ringing in his head without a break.

“He’s here. Please, you need to help me. He’s here!” he managed to shout and then the line broke. There was no reply and he was lost in manic laughter and steps bumping on the concrete, coming closer and closer.

Everything around him zoomed into a tunnel, he was on one end, Jerome on the other. He could see his hair, burning red. He pressed back against the wall so hard his back started to hurt. He tried to get up and fell down again, his wrist made a weird, unhealthy sound. He felt hot pain and numbness at the same time. There was a knife in Jerome’s hand. He was crying now. The wall stayed hard and unforgiving.

“Don’t come any closer!”, he screamed and his voice was nothing more than a broken sob.

Jerome came closer anyways, his grin wide and maddening, his face half gone, his body full of blood. The knife, shining in the light. He was going to cut his face of, Jeremiah just knew, was going to make them look like twins again. He couldn’t look away. The knife came closer, he could see his own face reflected in it, the face he was to lose soon, wide-eyed, sweaty, horrified. He screamed when the knife started to cut through skin. Jerome laughed the whole time.

 

 

It was 2 o’clock in the morning when Bruce got the call. He had been too high on adrenaline to sleep and had wandered around the manor. He was restless. Jerome was dead. He felt relieved and then somewhere, sorry. Jerome had been a madman, a serial killer but Bruce had seen his family. Jerome deserved to be locked away the rest of his life. Did he deserve death? Bruce wasn’t sure.

At least, the trouble was over now. He was free of Jerome’s obscure obsession and Jeremiah was free as well. Before he had met Jeremiah in person, he had expected to hate him, simply because he would look like his brother. He didn’t. The glasses probably were what surprised him the most. He loved the look it gave Jeremiah, loved the curious, honest eyes he had. How he was brilliant and surprisingly brave and so much like the person he had always wanted. They had a future to get to know each other now.

The call took him by surprise before leaving him in complete shock. He saw Jeremiah’s number on the display and guessed he couldn’t sleep as well. He answered, his voice a little rough – it always was when he said his name – and was terrified when instead of a response, panicked breathing came through the phone. All his instincts kicked in the moment Jeremiah said “He’s here”.  
Fear and anger and fury.

He was at his car faster than ever, he didn’t care for any speed limits. He could still feel the sudden silence hitting him when the call was abruptly ended, it had cut right to his bones. It couldn’t be.  
The night and city lights passed as a constant blur, he focused on the streets and not running others over. He needed to be there in time. He had pulled Jeremiah in this, persuaded him to face Jerome. If anything happened, it was his fault and his alone. He wasn’t allowing that to happen.

He arrived at Jeremiah’s bunker only twenty minutes later, his body restless. He didn’t even bother to lock the car, just ran to the door and pressed the handle. He wasn’t expecting the door to just swing open and stumbled into the maze. Jeremiah’s door never was unlocked. Cold fear hit him again and he made his way through the maze. He gazed behind corners but wasn’t as careful as he should be with Jerome around. No sign of any intruder so far. But the next door, the door to Jeremiah’s home, was unlocked as well. He sulked in air and tried to mentally prepare for whatever was expecting him. Blood, most likely. Violence and murder and madness.

He heard screams that made his blood boil. He hadn’t bothered – hadn’t had time – to grab a weapon. He reached for a massive floor lamp, clutching it so hard his knuckles turned white. This time he took the corners more carefully. He just wanted the screams to stop. But screams meant Jeremiah was still alive. He passed the living room. There was a package on the table. It looked odd, wrapped in purple paper. He wondered what it was about but the screams urged him to continue walking. They came from the surveillance room – of course Jeremiah would go there – and they were hoarse and rough, torn in two by sulking and mumbled begging. He prepared himself to find the worst and saw nothing.

The room was empty except for Jeremiah who was squatted against the wall, his body half on the floor, hands up to protect himself – his face – from an attacker Bruce could not see. He was screaming the whole time. And shaking. Bruce came closer, slowly. All of him yelled to go in, to hold Jeremiah tight and to tell him that nobody was there. Jeremiah didn’t seem to notice him, he just kept trashing, tears streaming down his face. Bruce couldn’t really understand the constant pleading that was falling from his lips in between the strangled cries. He remembered the package; how odd it had seemed.

He looked at Jeremiah, defending himself from an imagination. Jeremiah wasn’t mad. Some people in his family were, but not him. Bruce let go of the floor lamp, it fell to the floor with loud clatter and for the first time, Jeremiah looked up, directly at him, through him. His eyes widened for a moment, he seemed to reach for him, and then the fear toxin kicked back in. Because that was what was going on here. Fear toxin. It couldn’t be anything else and they knew Jerome had worked with Jonathan Crane. He had no idea what to do, knew that the effect would subside on its own after some time. But he couldn’t stand seeing Jeremiah like this. He didn’t deserve so much horror.

He got to his knees and slowly crawled closer, making sure Jeremiah wasn’t accidentally hitting him. He waited for the right moment, a particularly violent scream that made Bruce flinch and then he slung his arms around Jeremiah’s upper body and held onto him. He had no idea what to do next. Jeremiah was incredibly cold. He could feel his body easing into the touch without his mind processing it.

“He’s not here”, he whispered because there wasn’t much else he could say, “but I’m here to protect you”

He hugged the whimpering mass beneath him tighter. “You are safe with me. I promised, remember?”

He got no instant reaction but at least Jeremiah wasn’t screaming anymore. He tried to steady his own breath, in and out, slowly, calming. He felt how Jeremiah’s body slowly adapted to it. His turtleneck was wet from tears by now. He didn’t care.

Jeremiah inhaled shakily, his voice was rough from all the screaming: “Is he gone?”

Bruce nodded: “He is gone. He won’t come back. I’m going to make sure he won’t”  
In this moment, he was certain to burn Jerome’s body only for Jeremiah to feel safe again.

“He will always find me”, Jeremiah clung to him, his fingers buried in the fabric of his clothes. He was shaking so heavily Bruce was too.

“He won’t. He can’t. He is dead. You don’t need to hide anymore”, Bruce’s voice was soft, soothing. Jeremiah relaxed to the sound of him speaking.

“But…”, the words bubbled out mixed with ugly sobs, “he was here. He was here and he took my face”  
More ugly sobs, more shaking. It was getting worse again.  
“You must hate me now. I look like him” More tears on his clothes.

“I don’t. I could never hate you”, Bruce hummed and got a little bit of distance between them, enough to pull his arms away from Jeremiah’s back, enough to cup his face. Before he could think about it, his thumb was stroking Jeremiah’s cheek, wiping away the tears.

“Your face is alright. You still look like yourself”, he whispered, “I could never hate your face anyways”, he added, and without thinking pressed a kiss to the other’s forehead.

He felt his own breath stop and Jeremiah’s hitch. Jeremiah looked up at him, not through him, his eyes were wide behind his glasses.

“You wouldn’t?”, he echoed, “I look like him”

“It doesn’t matter”, Bruce should let go of his face but he couldn’t, “you are not him. You are brilliant and brave and breathtaking. It doesn’t matter who your family is. Not to me”

“When all of this is truly over”, Jeremiah was still looking at him and it took Bruce’s breath away, “do you think we could see each other more often? Aside from work of course”

Bruce’s heart made another silly little jump. “You accept my job offer then?”

“Of course”, Jeremiah’s voice was still quiet, his body still shuddering but his eyes were bright, “how could I say no to that?”

Bruce felt like there was nothing to add. “I’d love to”, he replied then, “to spend time with you I mean”

He watched Jeremiah’s attempt of a weak smile – not even close – and just knew what he had to do. He leaned in and kissed these lips he’d wanted to kiss since they first met.

Jeremiah made a surprised little sound and then his lips opened and he hummed into the kiss. Bruce felt himself smile against the other’s mouth and how arms wrapped around him, holding him incredibly close.

“You’ll be always there for me, won’t you?”, Jeremiah muttered into their kiss, or their next kiss, Bruce honestly had lost track of the time passing.

“Of course I will. I promised after all”, he answered and then closed the distance between their lips again.

**Author's Note:**

> I have to admit now that I haven't had the opportunity to watch Gotham Season 4 yet (wrong country, sadly, I can't wait to watch it of course). I got my Information from clips on YouTube, reviews and Tumblr. I hope I got things mostly right and everything makes sense to you :)


End file.
